The claret ſmooth, red as the lip we preſs / In ſparkling fancy, while we drain the bowl; / The mellow-taſted Burgundy; and quick, / As is the wit it gives, the gay champaign.
Sorry. I do compose electronic music (more toward ambient or trance) here in East Virginia.
So you punched out a window for ventilation. Was that before or after you noticed you were standing in a lake of gasoline?
A discussion paper being released today canvasses a number of proposals to transform the payments that have become known as ‘sit-down money’.
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